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Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars, and no money is being made from this. I'll put them back undamaged when I'm finished playing with them, I promise.

Life had seemed empty since Bespin. He had offered his son everything, and the boy had chosen death instead. Fortunately, death had not chosen to claim him at that point, and he lived on - a Rebel still, his enemy, but at least he lived. Vader only existed. He had failed at everything he had ever done. Failed as a husband, as a Jedi, now as a father. And as a Sith. He knew he had only a fraction of the strength he should have. He would never have the strength to defeat Sidious, the final test of any Sith apprentice. He merely existed. He led his troops into battle after pointless battle with rebels, and with the inhabitants of systems who would never have considered rebellion if Palpatine's rule had been even slightly less tyrannical. To die in battle, obeying his Master's orders, would at least have some validity. But it seemed the Force was not finished with him yet, it refused to allow him an honourable death.

So he continued to exist. He sighed, it was time for the briefing ahead of the next attempt to impose the Emperor's will on a recalcitrant system. His hands moved over the controls of his suit, in a set of movements that he knew had become too familiar recently. An adjustment here, a changed setting there, and the suit would provide a little something to help his mood, to enliven him for the meeting. It was meant for battle situations of course, an extra edge when even he suffered exhaustion from lack of proper sleep, but now it was the only way to get through the day. And then, at night, when sleep would not come, there were other settings, other little adjustments, which could help with that too. He sighed again, though the vocaliser made no attempt to communicate the sound outside his helmet. It had not been designed for such subtleties of mood. He trudged wearily to the briefing. Perhaps this battle would be the last, though he could not bring himself to lead his men badly. They did not deserve a death caused by their commanding officer's incompetence.

Admiral Piett was surprised to find a visitor in his private office when he returned there, and even more surprised to find it was Dr Hallam, who attended Lord Vader personally.

"I'm not here" was the doctor's first remark.

Piett nodded in reply. Whatever the doctor had to say would stay off the record. This conversation would never have happened.

"It is the duty of medical staff to ensure the captain is aware of any issue which might affect the safety of vessel and crew. I have come to the conclusion that I have to report such a potential issue." He glanced at Piett, who silently nodded again. "You are presumably aware that Lord Vader's suit has facilities to provide him with medication when required. There are a number of systems which regulate his bodily needs, and can inject the necessary doses of medication to maintain normal function. You may or may not also be aware that the suit can provide other medication on-demand - antibiotics, pain killers, stimulants, sedatives..." his eyes met Piett's at those last items.

"I had not really considered the matter, but I suppose it is a practical arrangement" Piett replied cautiously.

"Normally, yes. When there is the occasional need for such medication it is easier to make use of the suit's own facilities. And Lord Vader can administer the medication himself, say in combat situations. However..." He squared his shoulders and clearly determined to continue "however, over the past two to three months, it has become clear that these medications are having to be replenished at a far higher frequency than in the past. And that frequency continues to increase." He looked Piett directly in the face. "In any other case, I would raise such an issue directly with the patient, and with his commanding officer, but in the circumstances I decided it was best to let you know, off the record, so that you are aware of the situation. I do not see that there is any other action I can take."

"I understand. Thank you for making me aware of your concerns"

The doctor left, no doubt glad to have passed the problem on to someone else, and Piett slowly sat down at his desk and lowered his head into his hands. Vader's mood and behaviour had certainly been more erratic than usual of late, but this explanation had never occurred to him. He massaged his temples with his thumbs. Just what the galaxy needed - a Sith Lord with substance abuse issues. And Piett was no more capable of challenging his superior officer on this than the doctor had been. The mood swings were too sudden and too violent to even risk it. In the past, he had prided himself on his ability to judge Lord Vader's temper to a reasonable degree, and his continued service, his continued life, were a silent testimony to his success. But not now. Whatever had happened on Bespin had increased Lord Vader's volatility to new heights, whether that was the cause or the effect of his use of mood-altering chemicals.

Piett wondered yet again at what had happened on Bespin. Lord Vader had not spoken of it, although his plan had clearly failed. He had gone there to capture the rebel pilot, Skywalker, after an increasingly obsessive hunt for the young man, but had returned without him. Also without the rebel leader Organa, who had apparently also been present and a prisoner at some point in the proceedings. Vader had returned empty handed, and now seemed adrift and unable to truly care about his missions. He went through the motions, and others probably did not see the difference. But Piett's careful study of his superior showed him more than others were aware of. Vader was a broken man, and it was anyone's guess what would happen when he finally shattered.

The battle had gone well. Another planet pulled back into line by sheer military might. It would not last, of course, the tight controls applied to the planet would foster more resentment, which would spill over again soon enough. But it was over for now, and he was still alive. Unfortunately. He fell back to brooding on how pointless his entire existence had become, how far he had fallen. His hands moved automatically to the suit controls, then he stopped himself. What was the point of making himself feel a little better for an hour or two? He needed more, and more often now, just to manage an ordinary day. Better to give up on it and go to sleep. The other medication the suit could give would help with that, providing oblivion for a short while at least.

But why only a short while? There were no fail-safes on the suit now. There had been at first, the claustrophobic panic attacks from being trapped inside the suit, unable to breathe freely, to see without filters, to feel warmth or cold or even a breeze on his skin, had prompted the suit technicians to limit all of the available medication. Enough to provide a little help now and then, but in limited doses and frequencies, to keep temptation out of his reach. But after a few years those limitations had no longer been needed, he had accepted the realities of his existence, so when a technical problem had arisen the system had been simplified and the fail-safes removed. He could make as much use of their questionable assistance as he wanted. If he simply kept pressing the controls, the dose would be repeated. Enough sedative would overwhelm his system, even with the life support functions of the suit working to counter it.

He pressed the control, and instantly felt a little calmer. Psychological, no doubt, it was fast-acting but not that fast. He pressed it again, and again, then speeded up the process, worried that he would pass out without increasing the level enough to make it permanent. Over and over until his hand no longer obeyed his mind and he floated free of all concerns.

Then a thought drifted through. He ought to tell the boy. It would doubtless be a relief to know that he would no longer have to watch over his shoulder for a father he didn't want, who had maimed him and tortured his friends. He reached out in the Force, calling to Luke. No reply at first, then a confused response, his son apparently unsure even who was connecting with him.

'I'm sorry. Soon be gone. No more. No more chasing, hunting. Soon gone now. So very sorry. Wish... wish things could have been different'

'Vader?'

'Yes. Want you to know. Sorry. Should have. .. should have been different. Bespin. Sorry. Finished soon.'

'Finished how? What do you mean?' the tone was sharp, mistrustful.

Vader struggled to find words, his attention wandering, and instead sent just the thought, the concept, of medication and sleep, permanent sleep.

'NO! You're not going to do that. Stop it right now!'

That was surprising. Why wasn't the boy happy to be rid of him?

'Vader! Father! Pay attention. What do you need to do to stop this?'

His confusion was deep, why would Luke want him to stop it? But if his son wanted him to stop, then he would do what he could. He leaned across to the comms station, and pressed the button to open a channel. It went straight through to Piett - the last person he had called. He struggled to speak, unsure what to say.

"Lord Vader. How may I assist?" Piett had asked three times now, without getting any reply except for the respirator's regular sounds, then even those were interrupted by a heavy thump and became fainter, as though the mask was now at a distance from the comms panel. On the floor for example.

Piett made an immediate decision, cutting the call and getting through to the medical bay. An emergency team, and Lord Vader's own doctor, were dispatched to his quarters. Piett hurried to meet them there - he had the over-ride codes for the door for use in an emergency. He only hoped they were in time.

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Vader awoke in the medical bay, and immediately reached out with the Force to crush or smash every movable piece of equipment in the room apart from the breathing mask he was wearing. He barely restrained himself from lashing out at the fixed equipment as well, but checked himself. His son had convinced him to continue living, though he could not begin to comprehend why, so he could hardly destroy the machinery that was currently providing him with the medicated and pressurised air he needed for that survival. He should not have involved the boy. And yet, there was some small consolation in the fact that he had insisted that Vader continue to live. He cared enough that he did not want him dead, even if that was only to have the satisfaction of killing him in person at the next opportunity. He should at least let his son know that option was still available.

He shook himself; that was churlish. He should contact Luke to let him know he still lived, and intended to continue to do so, and he should do it politely. The boy deserved that at the very least.

His call was tentative, but Luke responded immediately, seeming concerned but wary.

'Are you... ok?'

'Yes, thanks to you. I am currently in the medical bay, though I do not plan to stay any longer than can be avoided'

Amusement trickled through their link 'I'm none too keen on them either' Luke admitted.

'You are busy, no doubt. I only wanted to reassure you that I had taken your advice.'

'I'm, uh, packing. We have to do that quite a lot.'

'Ah' No doubt some part of the fleet was closing in on a suspected rebel location which was correct for once. 'I regret that aspect of our interactions'

'Yeah, well, me too. Uh. Look I don't want to be unfriendly, and I really am glad you're ok, but I don't think it's all that appropriate for us to chat, all things considered.'

'Of course. I shall leave you to your task... May the Force be with you Luke'

'Uh, you too. May the Force be with you'

Vader contemplated. At least his son had been prepared to talk on some level, and seemed genuinely glad about his survival, not just in the hope of killing him personally when possible. Perhaps there was hope after all? He would have to find some way to talk in person - Luke was correct that friendly chats via their link were not appropriate when they were on opposing sides in a war. Neither were chats in person, come to that, but at least a face-to-face meeting would give some scope. Besides, he wanted to see his son in the flesh again. He would find some way to make arrangements to do so.

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Piett watched his commanding officer as carefully as he dared during the introductions, without being too obvious - or so he hoped. The Empire conducting peaceful negotiations with a neutral system, in the presence of delegates from the Rebel Alliance, was not normal procedure. Praxin had valuable resources, and wanted certain assurances from the Empire about being permitted an unusual amount of autonomy in their business dealings. Standard procedure would have involved a large deployment of storm-troopers to convince them to change their minds and cooperate without further discussion. Instead, Lord Vader had agreed to their terms for a conference, and allowed the presence of Rebels as 'advisors'. So far as Piett knew, there were no unusual levels of military planning for the meeting, nothing that would suggest there was a trap being set. But Lord Vader was clearly on edge as the procession of Rebel advisors entered the room one by one and were each formally introduced to the Imperial party. The reason for the tension became clear as a familiar figure entered the room towards the end of the group. Of course, thought Piett. The rebels had included their young hero in the group. The introduction between Skywalker and Lord Vader was obviously a cause of nervousness both for the young man himself and for several other rebels who remained tensely in position around him throughout. As soon as the formalities were concluded, they hustled Skywalker away and to the furthest reaches of the room, clearly intending to keep the maximum distance between the two.

As the day wore on, Vader's hold on his temper became increasingly stretched. Not only was his son surrounded at all times by a small group of rebels who shepherded him away at every opportunity, making physical conversation impossible, but the boy himself would not respond to Vader's attempts to communicate through their link. If he did not take steps, they would spend the entire conference as distant as if they were on opposite sides of the galaxy. Finally unable to be sure of controlling himself any longer, he simply stood up from the table in the middle of a discussion and walked out of the room, to confused expressions from all sides. He found his way to an enclosed courtyard garden he had noticed earlier, in the hope that nature might prove to be of at least some use in improving his mood. As he became calmer, he sensed Luke's presence in the Force, looking for him, a note of concern in his thoughts. Vader found himself feeling guilty, a very unfamiliar emotion these days. His son had witnessed him at his weakest and most vulnerable during their last exchanges, and had now seen him behaving in an erratic way. The surprise and confusion in the other Imperials must have been obvious to a Force-sensitive, confirming that Vader's behaviour was a cause for concern amongst those who knew him well.

Vader sent an apology, and a sense of his current location, through the Force. Luke immediately responded with what seemed like eagerness, and within a few minutes he came through the door out into the garden. He had somehow shaken off his bodyguards and was alone. He still seemed more than a little wary though, and Vader suddenly came to a conclusion about how he could assure his son of his good intentions. He reached out gently in the Force to the boy, then dropped his shields almost completely, certainly enough for Luke to read his current mood and intentions without effort, and enough for him to dig deeper if he chose.

The responding touch on his mind was tentative at first, but became a little more confident as there were no unpleasant consequences. He stayed at the surface of Vader's thoughts, out of politeness perhaps, rather than fear. He looked directly into his father's eyes, as if the mask were completely transparent, and smiled, lowering his own shields in reply, and allowing his concern for his father to show openly.

It could only be brief, but it was a start, and perhaps would allow them to get to know each other a little more, if each had at least some measure of trust in the other.

Piett found himself walking through corridors and up and down staircases in company with the smuggler, Solo, who was one of the group who had been guarding Skywalker so jealously earlier in the day. He was muttering under his breath about what he would do to the 'kid' when he found him, and Piett recognised the depth of concern beneath the surface anger, and also the likelihood that both anger and concern would lead him to try to harm Lord Vader if the two were found together. Somehow the boy had gone missing in the confusion that had followed Lord Vader's abrupt departure - an unscheduled 'refreshment break' had been announced, since it was impossible to continue the discussions, and this had led to the various delegates wandering out of the room en masse. By the time the rebels had realised that Skywalker could not be found, several minutes had passed, and there had been no way to guess where either Skywalker or Lord Vader might be. But both Solo and Piett shared the suspicion that it would be a single location rather than two.

The thrum of a light saber was clearly audible through a door. Piett and Solo exchanged a worried glance before crashing through the doorway together, blasters raised, then both stopped short. Luke was standing calmly several metres away from Vader, watching as one solid black-clad arm swished through the air wielding a light saber with a pale blue blade. Vader's own saber was still clipped to his belt in its usual position.

Piett watched in confusion as Vader extinguished the blade and returned it to the young man, levitating it across the space between them. Skywalker had seemed unafraid as Vader handled his weapon. And you don't have to be a trained psychologist to spot the subtext inherent in that situation, Piett thought to himself, before pushing the idea as far from his conscious mind as possible.

Vader nodded respectfully to the young man before saying "Your skills are indeed complete. An excellent weapon, fully worthy of a trained Jedi". The boy nodded in turn, apparently pleased but not over-awed by the praise. Then Vader turned and left the garden, and Piett followed, leaving Skywalker and Solo alone.

Piett hesitated before knocking on the door later that evening, knowing how much Lord Vader disliked being disturbed in his quarters. But the call was from the Emperor's private office, and could not be ignored or delayed. Vader's voice called out "Enter" and he did so, stopping on the threshold in shock as he took in the sight of the young rebel sitting cross-legged on the bed, his boots lying nearby on the floor. Pulling himself back to his normal efficiency, Piett delivered the message and then left promptly.

Luke put his boots back on and left the room the way he had arrived, down the outside of the building to a balcony below, while Vader left more conventionally through the door.

'Father' - the thought was tentative but sincere, and he sent back a sense of warmth and happiness at being so addressed. 'Does Piett know who I am?'

'I... assume so - he certainly knows how important you are to me.'

'Perhaps you'd better make it clear. I... caught the end of a thought as he was leaving. He was worried about what he might have been interrupting. I'd hate for him to get the wrong impression.'

Vader choked back an angry thought about what Piett might have been imagining. But when he considered the matter, he could not recall making any specific reference to his 'son' on the rare occasions he had made any mention of Luke to Piett, and there were no records to show that he had ever been married, let alone become a father. His obsession with finding one specific teenage rebel could easily have been misinterpreted. He resolved to speak more directly to Piett at the first opportunity.

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Vader decided to deal with the matter swiftly, and went to Piett's quarters immediately after dealing with the Emperor's entirely pointless demands for information on how the day had progressed.

"I am sure I do not need to stress to you the importance of discretion. My son's situation within the rebellion would be a very dangerous one if his true identity were to become known."

Piett's surprise at the word 'son', scarcely visible on his face but clear in the Force, confirmed to Vader that Luke's suspicions had been correct. But his next thoughts showed that he was still misreading the situation, so Vader added "He has become a fine young man, even though his politics are woefully wrong" to quash Piett's new theory that the boy was working as an agent for Vader. It was important that Piett should not assume that Luke was trustworthy, despite knowing his real identity.

"Of course, my lord. I assure you of my utmost discretion on this subject."

Vader could tell how honoured Piett felt at being entrusted with such an important piece of information, though he was less pleased at the sense of relief he felt from the admiral. The fact that he and his son were now on speaking terms did in fact make a huge difference to his emotional stability, but he would have much preferred others to remain in ignorance of that fact. However, Vader knew he had no-one to blame but himself. His foolishness had been the catalyst for renewed contact with Luke, but it had also advertised his weakness to Piett and his doctor. The first few days after his trip to the medical bay had been... uncomfortable, and his awareness that his folly was known to others had not made it easier to bear the physiological effects when he abstained from his suit's 'assistance'. However, his mind and purpose were now clearer than they had been in a long time. All he needed was to convince his son to join him, and the galaxy could be theirs. He would even agree to whatever conditions Luke chose to apply - any form of government had to be better than what the Emperor was now doing. The Empire would tear itself apart within ten years, perhaps less, even without the Rebellion's efforts. A return to the red tape and stagnation of the old bureaucracy was hardly ideal, but at least the galaxy would have some measure of peace and stability.

Vader and Luke continued to meet secretly each evening after the public sessions of negotiations. Vader had decided to tread softly, and they spoke of many things. He told the full story of his marriage and Padme's death at his hands, not trying to excuse his behaviour in any way. Luke was silent for a long time after he had finished, before finally saying "The Emperor is truly evil, isn't he. He tricked and manipulated you every step of the way."

Vader could not think of how to respond to that - he had no wish to make excuses to his son, but at the same time, the Emperor's true character was the most important thing in the galaxy right now, and his son had recognised it from what Vader had told him of events 20 years earlier.

"Why do you still serve him?"

"Because I am not strong enough to kill him. Beside him I can make some difference. To leave him would be to lose what little influence I have. His other assistants and advisors are utterly ruthless in carrying out his orders. I am the only one who 'interprets' them in ways which reduce the bloodshed, to some extent at least."

Luke nodded, thoughtful. "Would we be strong enough together?"

"Yes. We would, my son. Your strength in the Force is considerable, though not enough in itself. Together we could overpower and kill him. For a long time while I hunted you, I dreamed of turning you to the Dark Side so that you would stand by my side, and we could kill Sidious together. Then we would rule the galaxy as father and son."

"And now?"

"The galaxy must be ruled, but I no longer care by whom. If the leaders of your Rebellion could put in place some kind of democracy then I would support it. I have doubts about its effectiveness, but the evil of the Emperor must end. I no longer expect to be his replacement."

Luke nodded again. "I will have to think about it. This isn't something I can just agree to on the spur of the moment. But I promise I will be thinking about it at every possible moment."

Luke may well have thought about it, but he would not discuss it further. Soon it was the final day of the conference, and Vader had received no clear indication of what Luke intended to do. Would he take some kind of offer to the Rebellion? Was it likely that even he could convince them of Vader's sincerity? And what if there was a spy within the Rebellion who would inform the Emperor of his apprentice's treachery?

Vader sat through the concluding speeches barely hearing a word of them. In theory, they had reached a milestone in negotiations between the Empire and an independent system. In reality, he had agreed to some terms and disagreed with others depending more on his mood at the time than on any merits of the points being discussed. The treaty was legally binding, but a practical nightmare. It would keep lawyers busy for decades, assuming the Empire survived that long.

Finally the planned speeches were over, and all that was left was to return to their respective ships. But then, without any fanfare, Luke stood up in his place to one side of the Rebel party and addressed the meeting. "Ladies, gentlemen, I will only delay you a few moments. As you know, I have served with the Rebel Alliance for the past three years, working to improve the situation of all within the galaxy. I have recently come to the conclusion that I can better achieve the goals for which I strive by working within a different context. I know that you will not understand this" he looked at Leia and Han in particular "and I can only hope that you will one day feel able to forgive me."

And with that he gave a short bow towards the Rebel Alliance leaders, and walked the physically short but politically vast distance around the negotiating table to stand immediately behind his father.

Vader could feel the turmoil in his son, and understood that the decision had only been finally made during the closing speeches. Luke's thoughts were clamped down tight, and Vader was unsure if his son even sensed the reassurance that he sent through their link. He certainly remained physically tense as Vader stood and wordlessly led the Imperial party out of the room and towards the transports which were standing ready to take them back up to the Executor.

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On the shuttle, the Rebel Commander Luke Skywalker sat apparently silent beside Lord Vader for the whole trip, but in fact they spent the time agreeing their strategy. Luke had got over his emotions at the momentous decision, and was all business after briefly apologising to his father for the lack of notice of his plans. Vader in turn expressed his happiness at the decision, whatever the timescale. He was just relieved that Luke had made the right choice and would stand at his side against the Emperor.

By the time they docked with the Executor their plans were agreed. Despite Luke's reservations, and his knowledge of the distress it would cause his friends when they heard of it, the only practical plan was for them to behave as though Luke had in fact been an agent for Vader all this time, and was now being 'called back' by his commanding officer. A Rebel turncoat would not be trusted, and Luke had already picked up a mixture of contempt and pity from the Imperials around him, all of whom believed he was about to learn his mistake when he arrived at the Executor and found himself escorted to an Interrogation cell rather than a trusted position within the Empire.

Luke followed Vader off the shuttle when it docked, with Admiral Piett and the other senior officers immediately behind. Vader paused once a few were within earshot and turned to the Admiral. "Piett. Arrange a suitable escort for Commander Skywalker until he is properly attired. I did not go to all this trouble to retrieve him just to have him shot by accident. Have the adjutant's room next to my quarters prepared for him. Skywalker - debriefing in my ready-room at 14:00."

"Yes my lord." Luke gave a small bow, very aware of the eyes of all the officers on him as they swiftly readjusted their opinions. He stood to one side as Vader strode off, followed by his officers. Piett meanwhile ordered six troopers to 'guard and protect' Skywalker, and detailed the leader to take Skywalker to stores for clothing and then to Lord Vader's ready room. 'Guard and protect' was the strongest command he could give them to make it clear they were looking after a valuable guest and not preventing an enemy from escaping or attempting sabotage. Piett only hoped that he was following Lord Vader's intentions correctly - the boy would have a considerable amount of freedom this way. However, he could see the necessity - many of the men on board the Executor had lost friends and relatives on the Death Star, and only the appearance of being a loyal agent of Lord Vader could protect him from retribution.

Once changed into plain black clothing without insignia, Luke felt far less conspicuous, and the group only got occasional curious glances from those they passed, rather than the glares that an assumed prisoner had received. He could still expect a fair amount of suspicion, but once word got out that Lord Vader had retrieved a very valuable agent, his situation would be reasonably safe onboard the flagship. He hoped.

Vader paced in his ready-room off the bridge. In the short time he had been back on board, the news about Luke Skywalker being on the ship had already travelled far, and he had picked up a range of emotional responses from those nearby. Even the accompanying rumour about the change in Luke's loyalties had done little to reduce the anger at having the person responsible for the destruction of the Death Star within range of reprisals. He could only think of one strategy to protect Luke from possible attacks, but was uncertain how his son would respond. He had been hesitant enough about pretending to be an agent at all.

Finally the door opened and his son entered the room, his escort remaining outside. Vader felt a surge of pride in the handsome young man he saw before him - a proper military uniform suited him well.

Luke in his turn was wide-eyed, having only now realised the sheer scale of a Super Star Destroyer. No diagrams or statistics had prepared him for the distances involved, or the numbers of men on the ship. He had picked up aggressive thoughts from many of them. Either the story about his being an agent for Vader had not travelled as quickly around the ship as his identity, or it was not enough to ameliorate his previous actions. He rather feared the latter.

Vader confirmed his fears almost at once. "The loss of the Death Star was a defining moment for many Imperials, the moment when the Rebel Alliance became a real threat rather than an inconvenience. Few of my men were unaffected, the numbers lost were so great."

Luke hung his head - his initial jubilation at destroying a weapons platform had soon been tarnished at the thought of how many men had been destroyed along with the hardware, how many families would have lost a son, a father, a brother. It had been necessary, but he regretted the way it had been done. Not that there had been any available way to destroy it without loss of life, of course. But he could understand why so many wanted him dead to avenge their losses.

"I can only think of one strategy which would significantly alter opinions, but it is a great deal to ask of you. I do not know if you will be willing to be responsible for a huge untruth, even in the hope of completing the work you started then with as little further loss of life as possible." He paused then continued "It would be necessary to make the crew doubt that you were the pilot who destroyed the Death Star. To at least make the matter an area of doubt in their minds. My obvious trust in you, and rumours of how very valuable you have been to me, will add to that doubt."

"But how could they doubt it? Both the Rebellion and the Empire have made my identity public. And your officers know who I am. So your crew know I am Luke Skywalker, and they know that Luke Skywalker destroyed the Death Star. What room for uncertainty does that leave?"

"They know that you are Luke Skywalker, that cannot be denied. And they know that both the Rebels and the Empire claimed that you were the pilot responsible. But there were few eye-witnesses, since most of the pilots were lost on the Rebel side as well. Perhaps the Rebels wanted to be able to laud a hero? A poster boy to show how even a young man from a humble background could strike a decisive blow for freedom? Or perhaps Lord Vader's agent took the opportunity to claim the glory, in the hopes of getting into a position of trust with the Rebel leaders. And perhaps the Empire was happy to go along with it in either case, as they could hardly deny the story without revealing the agent's true loyalties."

Luke paled. Given the general mistrust of Rebel propaganda, it was likely that Imperials could be convinced. And even though it required them to disbelieve what their own leaders had told them, they'd probably grin at their guile in allowing the story to spread, all the while knowing that their loyal agent was strengthening his position in the very heart of the enemy camp.

All it would take was for him to nod, to allow his father to do this, and his reputation would be changed for ever. Oh, later he'd be able to tell the truth of course, but after all the lies, who would be sure he wasn't just lying again? The Rebels already thought he was a turncoat. Those who had been there at the time knew that he had fired the death-blow, but there were plenty of others who only knew of him by reputation, and who might well doubt either his word or that of the leadership. They would believe that he had always been Vader's agent.

For a moment an icy fear clutched at his heart. Was this what Vader had planned from the start? For him to burn his bridges so thoroughly that he could never return to the Rebellion? Had he been played?

He thought quickly. Whether or not it had been planned, he could see no better way out of the situation. If the men on this ship continued to believe he had killed millions of their comrades, then he was likely to be killed in revenge before he had a chance to reach Coruscant and put their plan into action. It was his reputation, against a chance to end this conflict. He could not afford to put his own good name, or even the truth, above the need to act.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Vader relaxed. He had feared the boy's sense of morality would prevent him from making the only practical choice, but his son had surprised him again.

"We should act quickly to spread this new information. I am calling a meeting of my senior officers to discuss the implications of some new intelligence, which I will allow them to believe came from you. Don't worry, the effect of this intel is that we will call off a planned attack, so you need not be concerned about the meeting. But I will take you to task for your foolishness in laying claim to the Death Star's destruction. Do you prefer to make the deception all your own, or to say that the idea originated with the rebel leadership?"

"Mine" replied Luke quietly. If anyone were to be made out a liar, it should at least be himself. He would be making it so by this lie in any case. Why did politics have to be so complicated?

Vader lost no time in calling in his senior officers to present the new intel to them. Luke was to be present but did not have to provide any additional information. He could tell from their occasional glances that, despite Vader making no specific claims, they all assumed that this intelligence had come from him. It was intriguing, the ways in which an impression could be achieved without actually saying anything. That didn't stop it from being a lie of course - knowing they were gaining a wrong impression and not correcting them was morally no different from saying it out loud. But it was... educational.

Once the conclusion had been reached, inevitably, that the changes in rebel numbers and locations made the planned attack a poor use of resources, Vader asked General Veers how the crew were reacting to Skywalker's presence.

The general was clearly uncomfortable about replying, realising that his report would be unwelcome news, but he did not hesitate, and relayed what he had found - that the men were unhappy and that some level of disturbance was likely if Skywalker was found without an escort.

Vader listened in silence, before turning to Luke and saying very coldly "Now do you understand why your ridiculous alteration to the plan was beyond foolish? Did you give any consideration to how your lies would propagate, and what the effect would be when you returned from your mission?"

Luke felt a chill run down his spine at his father's tone. He knew that Vader was playing a part, and that he would suffer no punishment for his supposed errors, but he could feel at least some part of what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his father's ire, and it took little pretence for him to pale and stammer as he answered.

"No my Lord. I... it just seemed so fortuitous, when I landed and no-one knew who had done it... I thought it would give me an easy route into the inner circle. If I had thought about it I would have seen the implications... I begged them not to make my identity public once I realised what they were planning, but they thought I was just being modest, it fitted the whole 'naive farmboy' persona. I... apologise, Sir. It was foolishness." He hung his head, blushing at his lies rather than the supposed foolishness. He could feel the mixture of confusion and startled awareness from the others in the room. Clearly some at least understood the message they were supposed to get from this. There was a general aura of pity as well though. Doubtless an apology was seldom enough.

Luckily for him, Vader wanted nothing more than to 'forgive' his agent. "Since I gave you leeway to act as necessary to convince the rebels of your sincerity in joining them, I suppose I can hardly quibble at the details. It was certainly... unexpected... for there to be an opportunity for you to claim such credit at once. And your position within the leadership has been... beneficial."

Luke nodded, swallowing a lump in his throat.

"But on another occasion, kindly limit your claims to those which will not get you killed on your return."

"Yes my Lord"

"Wait outside while we discuss how to reduce the impact of this mess."

"Yes my Lord" Luke scurried out of the room, grateful to get away from the emotions of those around him. Many of the officers had also lost loved ones on the Death Star, and their feelings were swirling in confusion at what they had just heard.

Vader turned to his officers. "I trust you understand?"

General Veers was the first to put it into words. "Skywalker only took the credit for firing the shot once he realised that the actual pilot responsible would not be returning. Presumably any eye witnesses were also lost?"

"Indeed. It seems that few of their pilots made it back, and none of those who were close by when the shot was fired. Skywalker was keeping his distance so as not to get involved, and was the last to return to their ship. He took the opportunity to be acclaimed as their hero. I had given him permission to take part in military action to convince them of his bona fides if necessary, and this must have seemed a convenient short-cut. His 'rescue' of the princess would have been quite sufficient I am sure, but doubtless this accelerated his acceptance into their counsels. The only question now is how to stop the men from attacking him at the first opportunity."

"You could simply keep him apart from the rest of the crew until his next mission?"

"Given that his name and identity are now so widely known, I cannot use him for undercover work again. My intention was to integrate him with the regular military for a time. His training has been patchy in that area, since he could hardly pass as a farmboy if he slipped into behaving in a military fashion."

"If that is your plan then I think the only solution is to let the true story be known. There will be some question as to why our own side confirmed the rumours of Skywalker's identity, but that can be dealt with easily enough. What else would we do in the circumstances? An agent placed in the heart of the rebellion - we could not deny the rebel propaganda without them suspecting we knew more of the matter than we should."

Vader nodded. It was the obvious answer after all.

Chapter Text

By that evening, the rumour that Skywalker had tricked the Rebels into believing him their hero rather than one of Vader's loyal agents had circulated round the ship. There was some disappointment that the true killer was already dead and gone, too swiftly for true justice to be served on him, but mainly satisfaction that their supreme commander had put one over on their enemy yet again.

Luke found himself the object of many curious looks, but none of the anger and aggression he had previously felt from the Imperials. His escorts were reduced to only two troopers, then to a junior officer whose role was to assist him in finding his way around the huge flagship rather than to provide any protection. The two of them were sitting in one of the mess rooms finishing their evening meal when a group of other junior officers joined them. One at least did not seem aware of Luke's identity, and immediately started telling Luke's escort the latest gossip he had picked up - namely that Skywalker had not just infiltrated the rebel leaders' councils, but also the princess's bedroom. Luke choked on a mouthful of his food at this and had to be slapped on the back. As he wiped his face, the gossip's eyes widened in recognition and he started to stammer an apology.

Luke grinned. He didn't want to come across as stand-offish with the crew - Vader had suggested that he spend the time getting to know them and their interests and concerns, so that he could understand better how to encourage and motivate them in future. So he waved away the apology only saying "That's one I can deny outright. She was very pretty but I don't think anyone was on those kinds of terms with her." There was a fair amount of disappointment at that, and some crude comments about the supposed comforts of serving in a military which allowed women to join the ranks. But Luke pulled a long face and declared that most of the female rebels might just as well have been men for all the femininity they showed. The others commiserated with him at his supposed lack of success.

A couple more officers joined them, and Luke's escort took the chance to introduce him immediately this time to avoid any repetition, though he struggled a little, saying "This is Commander Skywalker" then turning to Luke in confusion and saying "But am I meant to use your rebel rank or what?"

Without any real thought, Luke replied "I guess I'm Commander Skywalker until Lord Vader tells me I'm something else", thinking only in terms of titles and the possible acknowledgment of his identity at some later date. But the others all took on serious expressions, and Luke belatedly realised that they assumed that even his name could be part of an assumed identity as an agent, and that he had reminded them that he wasn't just another young officer.

After a few moments of awkward silence, one of the original group broke the ice "So where are you housed? Are you set up ok?"

"Um, I'm in Vader's adjutant's quarters"

"But what about your mess room, training rooms, that kind of thing, has anyone set you up for that?"

"No, I've just been trailing around with Lieutenant Parks here, I don't think anything has been done officially."

"Well, you'd best make use of our deck then. You need a base on a ship this size, some friendly faces around."

One of the other officers who had just joined them frowned a little at this "That's all very well, but he isn't 501st."

A few glances were exchanged, a conclusion reached. "He's Vader's Fist". Several nods later, and Luke found himself pulled to his feet, his drink shoved into his hand, and he was joining in a toast with the others, to "Vader's Fist", the unofficial name of the 501st. They all sat again and slapped him on the back and shoulders. Apparently he had just been made an honorary member of Lord Vader's elite regiment.

Luke spent a fair amount of time with the 501st over the following weeks. His father had set up a training schedule for him with the navy officers to learn about how various aspects of the ship operated, but had also ensured he had time for physical training and simply spending time with the army officers and men. Both had similarities and differences from what he was used to with the Rebellion - things tended to be more formal here, but most of the systems had been set up in similar ways and for similar reasons. A large group of people engaged in military efforts have needs in common, in terms of training and logistics, whatever side they are on.

Whenever possible, he spent time with his father, learning meditation techniques and practicing with his light saber. Having someone to train with was so different from practicing moves alone, though he spent time on that as well, now that his stance and positioning had been corrected he could feel how much better the movements flowed. They also talked, about the past, his mother, the Clone Wars, the Jedi, and, more rarely, about the future. Vader said little about Palpatine, and Luke respected that - they would need to plan in due course, but that was for later.

General Veers had given up trying to get any information from Piett about the young man, though it was clear enough that he must know more than he was telling. He had fished a little at first for information, out of ordinary curiosity, then more determinedly as he heard accounts from his men of the youth's abilities at unarmed combat. He was small and slight, and the trainers had been insulted at first at being asked to work with someone so obviously incapable of meeting the normal requirements for even raw recruits. That had lasted only until the third trainer in a row had found himself beaten by someone who looked as if he could be picked up and thrown. After that, the lessons had become more of an exchange of techniques, though the boy was far quicker to pick up and adapt the methods used by the larger troopers than they were at utilising techniques which required speed and agility rather than outright strength.

He was adept at fighting with weapons as well, though he seemed to have less interest in knives or blasters. So far as was known, he had not made use of his light saber since his arrival - he had certainly not been seen practising with it in the crew training rooms. He did however spend significant amounts of time practising very slow and controlled sets of movements. The men had laughed at first, referring to it as 'dancing', but the boy had smiled back and repeated the moves in a blur which had left four of them incapacitated on the floor, and they had been rather more respectful after that.

Veers was puzzled. The boy had passed as a Jedi amongst the rebels, many of whom were familiar with Jedi abilities from the old days. But the Jedi had been wiped out to the last man, largely by Lord Vader personally. And that left only one thing to explain his abilities, assuming they had not been mere tricks, which was that he had at least some training as a Sith. Yet Veers had met a previous Sith apprentice, and while his skills had been impressive they were outweighed by his arrogance, and the other Sith in existence, Lord Vader and the Emperor himself, were not known for their affability and easy-going ways whereas this young man was popular with both army and navy personnel despite their having a history of being wary of any direct agent of Lord Vader.

It was just unfortunate that Piett would not be drawn. Anyone who didn't know him as well as Veers would not even have guessed that he knew more than he was saying - he showed no signs of knowing any more than was publicly acknowledged - but Veers could tell that this young man was more than an agent, and that Piett was aware of at least part of it. If he was a Sith apprentice, things were likely to get messy when they next arrived at Coruscant, if past history was anything to go by. But there was no apparent attempt at concealment. The Emperor would know all that happened on Vader's flagship, on every ship, but the fact of the boy's presence was open to all and had doubtless been reported.

Darth Sidious grinned at the latest reports. It seemed the son of Skywalker was developing his skills very nicely. Vader would be conspiring with the boy of course, that was beyond doubt, and there would be some attempt on his life as soon as they were ready to act. But their failure would sow the seeds of the boy's turn to the Dark Side. If all went to plan then the boy would turn, as his father had before him, and his first act as a Sith would be to kill his father and take his place as Sidious' new apprentice.

If he could not be turned, well, Vader would either kill him or witness his destruction, and his anger and despair at his failure would strengthen him further.

Either way, Sidious would have a stronger apprentice.

But perhaps it would be worth a little intervention ahead of time, to make the boy receptive to the idea of changing his allegiance. Sidious reached out into the Force, seeking out the bright beacon, sensing incoherent and random thoughts. Young Skywalker was asleep, so much the better. Sidious gently nudged and suggested, whispering promises of power and riches into the youth's dreams.

Chapter Text

Luke awoke with a smile, though he could not remember quite what he had dreamed of. It had been pleasant though, he was sure of that. He stretched luxuriously in his bed, far more comfortable than the narrow cots that were standard issue within the Rebel Alliance, then took a long water shower before dressing in the clothing his father had provided. The fabric was that of the officers' uniforms, thick and smooth, in his case plain black but without insignia. He liked that, it was very much the equivalent of what his father wore, there was no need for his father to wear any indication of his rank openly as everyone knew his importance. Soon they would know his too, they already had some idea and were friendly but respectful even knowing what little they did. Soon his true identity would be public, and everyone would show him the respect due to Vader's son, third in line to the Emperor himself. That would feel good.

As the days passed, the only blot on the landscape was his father's attitude. They sat together most evenings, talking and meditating together, only now Vader spoke openly about defeating Palpatine, and suggested plans for how they would accomplish this. He seemed angered by Luke's reluctance to plan, and Luke found himself lashing out at his father, wishing only to silence him. Oddly, something he did had the desired effect, and he had to look back through his actions to try to work out what it had been. He had 'pushed' at Vader's suit, at the controls, reaching out with his mind to quiet the older man. Ah there, that was it, a set of controls on the suit. He recognised them from his father's thoughts, though they were slow and vague at present. A convenient addition to the suit, the provision of a sedative. He would have to be cautious, but this would allow him to stop his father from becoming difficult about his ridiculous plans. Luke smiled, this was exactly the leverage he needed until they reached Coruscant, to keep his father calm and subdued.

Piett frowned. The doctor's report had not been a complete surprise, since he had noticed the signs himself, but it was still worrying that Lord Vader had slipped back into his earlier reliance on the medication provided by the suit. Piett had hoped that the arrival of Skywalker would have continued to be a positive influence, but the improvement seemed to have been short-lived. He shook his head. Orders had come in for their return to Coruscant, for Lord Vader to report personally to the Emperor at the Palace. It seemed very unlikely that his second-in-command's current state would go unnoticed by the keen eyes of the Emperor. He only hoped that Lord Vader would realise this himself and reduce his use of the chemicals in time for their arrival.

Palpatine rubbed his hands together. Things were developing even better than he had hoped. When he reached out in the Force now he could feel Dark and Light swirling together in the boy. Vader's presence on the other hand was dull and muted, his earlier increased strength from having been reunited with his son no longer in evidence. All the reports from his agents onboard the Executor confirmed what his Force sense told him. The game would be played out very soon, and the conclusion was clearer than ever. The younger Skywalker was pulling in strength from the Dark Side and would easily be swayed to embrace it fully. His pleasure at both the power and influence he now wielded, and the comforts his improved status brought, were the key. He wanted more of both, and Palpatine was in just the right position to offer them. His visit to the Palace would show that in every possible way.

Their shuttle landed on a private docking bay, and Luke followed respectfully a little behind his father as he walked at a measured pace through the Palace complex to the throne room. He was a little worried that he had overdone the sedative - his father's original plan had been for them to walk into the throne room and simply challenge Sidious. Luke's light saber was even concealed in Vader's cloak since his own outfit was too close-fitting for it to go unnoticed otherwise. Luke's plan was far more subtle, but it needed Vader to be physically and mentally slowed while still getting them past the guards and into Palpatine's presence without attracting suspicion. If his walk slowed much further, would anyone intervene? Would it occur to the guards that there was something amiss, and would they dare challenge the Dark Lord if it did?

Finally they reached the throne room and were admitted, the guards leaving them alone with the Emperor. Vader struggled to a kneeling position in front of the throne, ignored utterly by his master who had eyes only for the younger man beside him.

"We meet at last, young Skywalker. I trust you like what you have seen of my palace so far?" The boy's impressions, of sheer size and opulence, had rung through the Force on his approach. He blushed at being so easily read, but Palpatine continued "Oh there's no need to be bashful. You see what power brings, and you want that for yourself. There's nothing to be ashamed of in that. Everyone wants power, though some pretend to want it so that they can help others. I prefer honesty myself. Power and wealth. They are their own rewards." He finally spared a glance at his apprentice, and flicked his attention over him in the Force. He was barely conscious, or so it seemed, his presence in the Force scarcely detectable, his thoughts slow and ponderous.

"Your father seems a little... subdued... this morning. I do hope he isn't out of sorts?"

The boy blushed again. "I... ah... he kept getting upset at me, so I, um, started giving him a little something to calm him down. He was really very upset this morning."

"Just because you wouldn't take that pretty little blue light saber he has in his pocket and strike me down without warning?"

Another blush, and a stammered attempt to explain, which Palpatine waved away with a smile. "Honesty, child. There will need to be honesty between us. I have no secrets from those I trust, and I don't expect them to have any from me. It seems your father has forgotten that of late. But he does have his little tantrums, I'm afraid."

He gazed directly at Luke now, holding his eyes for much longer than was comfortable. "So. You have come to see me. How very kind of you to visit an old man. Now, perhaps you'd like to tell me about your ambitions? And please, no silliness about wanting only to serve. We know each other far better than that, I am sure."

He felt the Dark Side stir in the boy, prompting his responses, his desires. "I want..." he straightened and his expression cleared "I want position and status. I want you to train me. Vader has taught me a little, but he won't allow me to develop fully, he thinks I should be happy simply to obey him. I know that you can teach me far more. I want to eat good food and wine, wear expensive clothes, drive a fast speeder. I grew up with nothing, doing manual labour. I want what I was born to, what I was denied at birth."

Palpatine smiled, every word rang true. And he would be more than happy to provide training, the boy's potential was unmatched, perhaps even at the level his father had had before Mustafar. But there would have to be a commitment first, some sign of loyalty.

"And what will you give me in exchange? You came here with a weapon concealed, to cut a man down in cold blood. Are you still prepared to do that?"

The Dark Side swirled again, and he could see that the young Skywalker was tempted, that his loyalty to his father was a shallow thing and could be easily uprooted. But then a pulse of Light side energy ran through the small frame and he shuddered. "No! No that would be wrong. A Jedi only kills when it cannot be avoided." How odd. Did he consider himself a Jedi then, despite the almost complete lack of training and the Darkness flowing around him? The youth frowned, seeming to struggle against himself. "I... don't think I could do that" he muttered.

"Look at me boy!" He met the gaze directly. "Does Kenobi still have so much influence on you? Will you cling to his pathetic teachings? What have they ever given you?"

"No. I ... sometimes... it's like he's still there. Still telling me what to do. I don't know why. He was nothing to me, I only knew him a few days. But it feels..." his voice trailed off, clearly unable to find words for what he was experiencing.

"Come here, stand right in front of me" He took the boy's chin in his hand and pushed his awareness deep into the jumbled mind, feeling around. Darkness was all through him, desire, ambition, resentment, all crowding his thoughts, feeling so very much like his father's emotions at a similar age. But there was something else, something deep inside, where he couldn't easily reach, a buried spark. It would be just like Kenobi to have meddled, leaving some part of his personality and awareness in young Skywalker, some attempt to protect him from the influence of the Sith, to fight against the Dark Side when it claimed him.

Palpatine paused to consider. It would be risky to take action, but the boy could not be his until that spark was crushed. The boy himself was no threat, he had no understanding of what it was or what Palpatine would do. A flick of his attention towards his wayward apprentice reassured him that there would be no interference from that quarter. The older Skywalker was close to taking a nap in his uncomfortable but stable position on one knee at the foot of the throne.

No time like the present then.

Sidious pushed further into the boy's consciousness, burrowing down through emotions and memories, seeking that little spark that had been buried there, perhaps shortly after his birth when Kenobi had first hidden the child. Deeper and deeper, leaving his own shields far behind, confident that the young man could do nothing even if he disliked the intrusion. There. Finally he felt the tiny spark of Light Side. He looked around him carefully, besides that spark he could feel nothing but the Dark, which could be no threat to him. He wrapped his own energy around the spark and slowly crushed it, choking the life out of it with a feeling of exultation until it was completely obliterated. Then he flowed back out, or tried to. The Dark energy around him felt smotheringly tight. But that was impossible, it could do nothing to harm him, they were the same. Yet the feeling of being crushed continued to grow. How could this be?

He thrashed around him, before realising with a sudden certainty that he had been tricked. The Light had been elsewhere too, and had surrounded him even as he believed he had crushed it. He fought back, but somehow the boy's Light side had been far stronger than it had first appeared. He had sensed only a Dark energy, so like that of Vader... so very like... the deception was obvious now and Palpatine lashed out viciously at Vader's presence around him. The darkness within the boy had not been his own at all, it had been the essence of his father. No wonder the armoured body had been so inert, it was as empty as his own body currently was. All three of them were in here together, and at least one would be utterly defeated before they would separate.

He tried to reason with Vader, to convince him to help him defeat the young usurper. But he could sense his apprentice's fatalism. He had agreed to this, knowing that he would be crushed along with Palpatine, accepting this as the price of his master's death. Palpatine continued to fight, hoping to convince the boy that they could negotiate. But he could make no contact with the younger Skywalker, as the older one's consciousness continued to surround him completely. Did the boy even know that he would kill his father as well? Palpatine would never know. He felt himself being crushed, all thoughts focussed in on avoiding death, but unable to escape it. With his last conscious thought, he cursed Vader and promised him eternal torment in the next life, where his apprentice would be joining him almost at once. That was a small consolation as he felt himself wink out of existence.

Luke continued to push in on the darkness inside him. He knew he could not afford to let Palpatine continue to live, even at the risk of his father's life. He had agreed, reluctantly, that there could be no weakness at the end. But he had a new plan, one that he knew could work now that he felt the difference in his father's spirit. At first when they had meditated together, the presence of the Light side of the Force had been like poison to his father, but he had learned to tolerate, even welcome, it as they grew to know each other. And now, he no longer had to crush, he could... permeate? Was that the word? He no longer tried to constrict and crush the other presence within him, simply poured Light into it, washing away the Darkness, until there was only Light through both of them. Only then did he loosen his grip, allowing his father's spirit to flow out of him and his own to focus back into his normal consciousness. His body shuddered and caught its breath as he came back to something like normality, then he pulled his face away from the hand that still held his chin, looking in fear at Palpatine, struck with sudden horror that he could likewise be returning to consciousness if this had gone wrong. But the body was still and empty, and he knew that Palpatine's spirit was truly gone.

He turned quickly to Vader then, unmoving at the foot of the throne. Had he killed his own father as well? The respirator was still functioning, the lights on the life support suit flickered as normal. But that proved nothing. He grabbed his father's arms, and lowered the silent form to the ground as gently as he could. There was nothing for a long moment, then hands clutched at his arms and the respirator hitched awkwardly as Vader struggled to breathe, and then the hands were reaching up to the mask and helmet, pulling awkwardly at them. "Take off the helmet". He complied. It was clear that his father had been damaged terribly by what they had done, and that even the functions of the suit could no longer sustain him adequately. Luke tried to suppress his own feelings of pain and loss. This moment was for his father, he could grieve in his own time. His hands released the clasps with some difficulty, removing first the back part of the helmet and then the mask, allowing him to see his father's face for the first time. He was smiling, though clearly struggling for breath. His skin was deathly pale and completely hairless, with ugly scars across his face and head.

"I'm so sorry father. I wanted to save you"

Chapter Text

"I'm so sorry father. I wanted to save you"

A hand patted his shoulder "You have saved me Luke. You have brought me back to the light. I can die in peace." His breathing seemed easier now, his voice quieter than expected and much softer than the vocaliser had been. "I feel..." he sighed happily "I feel quite well. It's very odd. I had expected dying to be unpleasant, but..." his voice trailed off again, and Luke felt tears pricking the backs of his eyes at the thought that he was slipping away, though some relief that it seemed to be a painless process. Perhaps the sedatives still in his system were easing his passing.

He was frowning now though, and his expression was more focussed. "I feel... better. Better than I have in a very long time." Even his voice was stronger. Luke watched him carefully. He hadn't seen many deaths, apart from the sudden kind in combat. But he had always rather assumed the person became weaker instead of stronger towards the end. And his father looked - almost healthy. His breathing was a normal speed, no longer rasping as it had when the mask was first removed. His colour had improved too, still very pale but no longer tinged with blue. He wondered if he should comment. It seemed disrespectful somehow. Then his father grinned up at him, a surprisingly boyish smile that lit up his whole face. "You know, I might just put off this dying thing until another occasion. Living looks a much more interesting prospect for now." Luke smiled back at him, and the two just sat for long moments, with matching expressions of love and the pleasure of simply being alive.

But after a minute or so, Vader frowned again and sat up. "You know this all just got much more complicated. We have a dead Emperor to explain." Luke looked up. They did indeed have a dead Emperor, sitting on his throne with a puzzled expression.

"Well... on the plus side he obviously hasn't been killed with a light saber. Or stabbed or strangled, or, well, anything suspicious really. We could say he... I dunno... just died?"

Vader raised an eyebrow. It seemed extremely unlikely. However... in the absence of any injuries, who could say otherwise?

"There is also the problem with my breathing. Or lack of problem, I should say. I can't use the mask and respirator, or the vocaliser, until I have a chance to recalibrate the suit. It would be damaging to use the pressurised air now that my lungs have improved. It may be selfish of me, but I don't like the idea of risking any deterioration in them. I have no idea if the improvement can continue, or if it was a one-off from all the Light side energy you were hitting me with, but I find myself very attached to the idea of breathing unaided."

Luke nodded. He certainly wouldn't endanger his father's health for the sake of an easy explanation. But it would be nicer not to be executed for treason, all things considered. He thought. "Ok. So you can't speak. Could you wear the helmet and mask if we put it back on loosely, and didn't seal it up?"

Vader considered. "Yes, but the flow of air would be obvious to anyone who got close. And the sound of the respirator would be affected. It would be more convincing if I didn't let anyone get near. That would mean you doing all the explaining, and giving orders."

Luke nodded again. "I can do that. Um, if I had my light saber on my belt it might make my authority a bit more obvious? And... how about you go out onto the balcony. You could... kneel? Could you be meditating? After Palpatine's death? That would seem a Sith kind of thing to do, wouldn't it?"

So, Vader went out onto the balcony and knelt facing outwards, with the doors open wide. If anyone dared approach him, the sound of the traffic would hopefully cover any odd sounds from his mask. Luke clipped his light saber onto the left side of his belt, just where his father wore his, and made sure his clothes were straight and smart. His outfit was similar enough to Vader's and the addition of the 'Sith' weapon was likely to encourage them to reach the obvious conclusion. Beyond that he simply had to sound confident. He took a deep breath and walked out of the throne room to speak to the guards waiting outside.

It was easier than Luke had expected. The guards were accustomed to taking orders, and in the absence of the Emperor they looked to Vader for instructions. Since he was kneeling in meditation with his back to them, they turned to the young man who had arrived with him, since he seemed to know what was happening. A flurry of doctors arrived to examine the body, along with various court officials. A few people wanted to get their orders directly from Lord Vader, or at least claimed they did, but when Luke calmly suggested they should go out onto the balcony and put their requests to the man in question they became oddly reluctant and accepted what Luke told them without further complaint.

Luke had put through a call to the Executor, and hoped that Piett would follow his instructions. His explanation had been plausible enough, but Vader had been clear that Luke should not notify him of the Emperor's death, as it could seem suspicious for him to have that knowledge, so it depended if Piett believed that he was truly assisting Lord Vader. He knew that he had stretched the Captain's belief in him recently, his act of being irritated with his father had been necessary to convince the spies they had known were on the flagship. Piett's unease about Lord Vader, and about Skywalker, had been unstated but Palpatine's spies were doubtless well trained to pick up on such things.

Luke stretched out in the Force. He could feel Piett's presence nearby. His orders had been to arrive privately and use one of the ante-rooms, and it seemed that he was now in position. Luke took the opportunity to go out to the balcony and confer with Lord Vader about several matters that he could not reasonably answer directly, then returned with the responses. After which he held up a hand and said "Lord Vader has asked that the room be cleared for a time. I will let you know when you can return." The room emptied slowly, with many presumably hoping to be called back for some private instructions. When none were forthcoming, they all finally left and the doors clanged shut behind them. Luke sighed with relief. He could be off duty for a short while at least.

He went to the side door and through to where Piett and the suit technician were waiting with four solid cases, and led them through into the throne room. Piett's eyes opened wide at the sight of the Emperor's body, laid out on the floor where the doctors had placed him, then he hurried out to the balcony and helped Luke to lift Vader to his feet, seeing at once that his commanding officer was struggling to stand.

Piett's stomach churned at the sight of Lord Vader in such a weakened condition, and he wondered to what extent medication might be involved. But Lord Vader chuckled at him, saying "It's mainly the knees. That's a very hard and cold floor for kneeling on for any length of time." Piett was confused at the sound of the voice, coming as it did from within the mask rather than through the vocaliser. He had heard it occasionally, when the suit had required attention, but even then it had been through a temporary oxygen mask. The suit technician was pulling one out from a case now, realising that the mask was not functioning normally.

Between them they helped Lord Vader into one of the heavy chairs which were positioned against the walls of the room, and the technician carefully removed the helmet and mask, handing the oxygen mask to Piett. Vader waved it away. "My lungs are fine. That's why I had to break the seal on the mask, I can't turn it low enough not to do more harm than good. As you can see, Emperor Palpatine has suffered a fatal heart attack, but I have been unable to give orders directly without causing concern about my health. It seemed prudent to spend my time in meditation, and to conceal the fact that I require your assistance. Luke will further conceal what we are about, assuming you brought the other items he specified?"

"We did indeed my lord. They are in that case" Piett replied. Luke opened it and smiled, this would do fine. They had agreed that some kind of 'Sith ritual' would be necessary as an explanation for clearing the room, and would signal the end of Vader's 'meditation'. Since no-one knew what a Sith ritual would involve, and even Vader claimed that no such thing existed, Luke had settled on a variation on Tatooine custom and superstition, though on Tatooine the thorn plants and herbs had been much scrubbier things than the brightly coloured roses and ribbon-wrapped bunch of herbs that Piett had brought. Still they would be very suitable for an Emperor.

Luke took out bunches of the thorny flowers and arranged them at each doorway to the room, then around the body on the floor, leaving a gap at the feet which faced towards the open balcony windows. He picked up the bunch of herbs, then hesitated. "I won't burn this until your mask is back on, the filters will still work won't they?" The technician looked up from his work and nodded. He had adjusted the settings on the mask so that the air it provided would be at normal atmospheric pressure, and the vocaliser so that it would sound as it usually did in spite of the change. Soon Vader was back in the mask and helmet, though Luke felt his hesitation and dislike of the trapped feeling. He sent his reassurance to his father. They would take steps to free him from the suit as soon as possible. But for now, continuity was the key.

Luke set fire to the bunch of herbs as Piett and the technician returned through the side door stepping carefully over the roses on the floor. He wandered around the room waving it, making sure the scent would be noticeable. He was unsure what anyone would make of the signs of 'Sith' funeral activities. It was very unlikely anyone would dare ask just what had taken place here. But the symbolism of thorns around doorways was well known in many systems, a superstition for encouraging the spirit of the deceased not to venture further into the house, but to leave by the conveniently-open window, repelled by the smell of burning herbs. He placed the still-smouldering bunch at Palpatine's head, made sure his father was ready, and went to open the main doors to allow the doctors and officials to return.

Chapter Text

In the days that followed, Vader strengthened his grip on the Empire, with a mixture of threats, promises, and appeals to loyalty. Within a week, he was confident that his position was relatively assured. There had been a few minor revolts and attempts to grab more power than Vader was prepared to let go, and a few examples made as a result, but overall it had been a bloodless transition.

He and Luke had talked long into the night about the future, about democracy, but Luke had seen enough now of the inner workings of the Empire and had lost some of his illusions about what would be possible in a short timescale. Stability had to be the priority for now. Vader had called a cessation of all Imperial offensives immediately after his position as Emperor had been publicised. The Rebel Alliance had largely decided to abide by the cease-fire, it seemed, and were keeping a low profile.

The date of the state funeral was decided, and Vader announced a session of the Senate two days later. Officially, the Senate had never been abolished, though it had not sat for two years. Vader took the opportunity to also announce an amnesty over all legal action involving senators and their staff, for the duration of the funeral and Senate session, and privately ensured that messages would be received by those most closely affected to assure them that the offer was genuine.

On the night before Palpatine's funeral, one of the most prominently 'neutral' Senators held a reception. He was a very well known and popular figure, and the reception was held in a very public venue. The guest list was not published, and many of those on it had not replied to say whether or not they would attend. Luke circulated around the rooms, occasionally sipping at his glass of wine, chatting politely to those he passed, not staying in one place for long. Vader had been cornered by a group of Senators to discuss their worries, and had agreed to a private meeting. The whole place was laid out in a way that allowed for such meetings, with many side-rooms and balconies and alcoves. It was well known as a venue for 'social' occasions that ended up with important political or business decisions being made away from prying eyes.

Luke felt Piett's eyes on him. He often did, but tried not to worry about it. He and Vader had discussed what they should tell Piett, but decided it was unfair to go into detail about what they had done. Piett had never expressed any disloyalty to Emperor Palpatine, though his main loyalty had always been to Lord Vader. To have told him anything about their planning Palpatine's death would have put him in a difficult position. This way he could be perfectly honest if any suspicions were raised, and would not have to lie for them.

However, this left him with the obvious belief that the rocky relationship between Luke and his father had sent Vader back into reliance on what his suit could offer, and his wariness about both Luke's behaviour and the new Emperor's state of health were clear. This evening's event, with the expectation that Leia Organa might attend, was a source of stress for all of them.

Luke circulated, exchanging small talk with those he knew. His status at court had never been stated outright, but plain black clothing and a light saber gave clear enough signals. People were polite, if wary, and it was not unusual for them to inform him of things or ask favours in the expectation that he would pass them on to Vader. If they seemed important then he did so, but otherwise he felt no compulsion to be a messenger. Vader had worked hard at ensuring there were proper channels through which people could raise issues, and they would just have to learn to use them.

Luke felt a tingle through the Force and turned to see Leia arriving with a group of other Senators. She was as beautiful and elegant as ever, and her emotions as tightly controlled, though he could feel the pang as her eyes drifted around the room and she caught sight of him. Outwardly she paid him no attention - chatting, sipping a glass of wine, wandering through to another room.

He decided not to pursue her, though he wished it was possible for him to go after her and explain everything. Such a course would be utter stupidity though. She had no trust left in him - that was clear, and understandable. And he could not risk what they were all working for just to seek understanding and forgiveness. Any attempt to work together had to be achieved without trust. It was his father who would have to speak to her, convince her that he planned to return to at least limited representation and a relaxation of the worst of Palpatine's policies.

Luke sighed. He did not regret what he had done, or the steps he had taken to achieve it – Palpatine was dead, and Vader had turned back to the Light Side of the Force, his eyes now as bright a blue as Luke's own and the aura of evil completely gone from him. But still, Vader was the Emperor, ruler of an Empire run largely by people who had been chosen by Palpatine. Peace and democracy would not be achieved overnight, or without more pain. And some of that pain was Luke's, in knowing that his old friends amongst the Rebels would never truly be his friends again, and even his new friends had little reason to believe him trustworthy. It had been a long road from the naïve farmboy he had been until so very recently, to supposed Sith apprentice. And from here to acknowledged son of Emperor Vader, when the time was right. And that would be a further blow to Leia and Han and the others, which would seem to confirm everything they had now been forced to believe about him.

There was no turning back.

He straightened his shoulders and looked around the room. This was his new life, and in it he was in a position where he could help to shape the future of the galaxy. He was a Jedi, even if only a fledgling one for now, under his father's tutelage. He had a father, at last, who loved him. Soon they would start rumours about medical treatments, and enable Vader to live openly without the suit. He, and the galaxy, would be free. Whatever his regrets, Luke would never doubt that it had been worth the cost. He took a sip of his wine and went back to circulating around the room, picking up on the currents of feeling amongst the Senators, and the overall feel of cautious optimism gave him hope for the future.